My favourite story is ours…

Our skewed little fairy tale,
with its almost-traditional beginning
and its unfinished end.

Featuring pulses racing, breath quickening, stupid grins almost permanently affixed
Eyes full, heart full, mouths full (count the multiple entendres!)
Souls and fingers entwined
So far past curfew, past hopes, past dreams and all our fears.

Pretty dirt patterns on the hem of my prettier dress
and artful smears of lip gloss on your stiff white collar,
testaments to almost over-eager displays of affection.

I used to dream I was a princess, until you told me I’d have to have an arranged marriage.
I imagined you as my knight in shining armor till I realized you wouldn’t be able to hold me.

Through all our tears and self-reproach we still see each other as what we are at our cores, complete with the impossible mix of bad habits and unfulfilled potential.

At the end of another precious day, this comfortable silence says more than a thousand pages of magic, adventure and romance, the best vocabulary and the most beautiful watercolor scenery.

I’m happiest of all knowing you’ll help me paint that boring white picket fence, that we’ll still make out in the car, and you’ll steal food off my plate just to make me smile.